


This Old Light Isn't Ambling Anymore

by prouvairablehulk



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: M/M, Tommy and Oliver weren't best friends, coffee shop AU, single dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 19:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11065914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvairablehulk/pseuds/prouvairablehulk
Summary: William likes hot chocolate with marshmallows and a particular cafe. Oliver likes the barista who works there.





	This Old Light Isn't Ambling Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> SINGLE PARENT OLLIE (William was left on his doorstep with a note) AND BARISTA TOMMY (his father kicked him out and he is currently sleeping on the couch of ADA Laurel Lance's apartment) AND WILLIAM IS SO HAPPY WHEN THEY GO TO THE CAFE CAUSE HIS DAD ALWAYS SMILES BIG AND TOMMY GIVES HIM EXTRA MARSHMELLOWS - Thanks for the idea, Scarlet Mom. Set in an AU where Tommy and Oliver never met, but Oliver still became the Arrow. Title from June Hymn, by the Decemberists, which I had on repeat while writing this.

“Are we going to Camelot?” asks William, clutching tight to Oliver’s hand. The seven-year-old’s eyes are wide and pleading, and even after five years in hell, Oliver still can’t say no to his son’s puppy-dog eyes. Camelot is apparently William’s favorite cafe, a place he would go with Thea while Oliver was presumed dead. Oliver’s been a grand total of once, but he knows why both of them love it - it’s warm and cozy inside, full of armchairs and pillows and hints of the old stories of Arthur and his knights. 

“Yeah, Will, we can go to Camelot.” 

Will bounces in place and then takes off ahead at breakneck pace, never once letting go of Oliver’s hand. 

“Whoa there, kiddo, I don’t move as fast as you!” Oliver teases. Will rolls his eyes - a move clearly learned from Thea - and slows down enough to stay at Oliver’s side, even if he’s basically vibrating with excitement. When they push the door open, Will’s beaming, which makes Oliver beam in turn. 

“And what am I getting for you two gentlemen?” asks the man behind the counter, and when Oliver looks up he’s struck immediately by startlingly blue eyes and a smile that quirks to one side with mischief. It’s a very pretty look on the man - Tommy, according to his name tag - and Oliver has to bite back on the sleazy comment that is still the first thing to pop into his mind when confronted with this kind of pretty. 

“A hot chocolate for Will here, and a black coffee for me.” Oliver says, instead of the cheesy pickup line. 

“And do you want marshmallows, Will?” Tommy asks, as though he were clarifying with Oliver whether he wanted room for cream - the ultimate in with a seven-year-old is to talk to them like they’re an adult, and this guy knows it. Pretty and good with kids - at the moment, two of the only three things on Oliver’s ‘should I date this person?’ list. 

“Yes!” says Will, with enthusiasm, and Tommy grins. 

“Coming right up! Take a seat, I’ll bring them out to you.” 

Oliver turns away with a deep breath, and lets Will lead him to a pair of cozy armchairs in a corner where they can watch the street. When Tommy brings their drinks over, Oliver’s been puppy-eyed into reading from an anthology of King Arthur tales, and Tommy’s smiling, a broad, even thing that makes his eyes crinkle in the corners. Alright. Oliver’s coming back here. Lots. 

***

Two weeks later, on Oliver and Will’s fifth visit, there’s a serious lull in traffic when they arrive. Tommy’s sitting behind the counter with a newspaper when Oliver approaches to order, having already sent Will and his stack of library books to their usual spot. The front page story is about the slumlord Oliver took down as the Green Arrow the night before. 

“Your usual?” asks Tommy, because Oliver’s been in five times and Tommy remembers him.

“Thanks.” says Oliver, and then, a little cautiously, “What do you think about all that?” 

“About the Vigilante? I think he’s actually doing a hell of a lot of good. A lot of those assholes deserve a good kick up the ass.” Tommy scoffs, turns away a little to get started on Will’s hot chocolate. “I just wish he’d go after my Dad at some point.”

“Oh?” says Oliver. Look, Tommy just checked box number three (not hating the Vigilante on principle) and Oliver will go beat up his father if necessary. “Why?”

“I’m pretty sure Dad’s corrupt. And possibly underpaying his people. And bribing City Hall.” 

He puts Oliver’s coffee mug down on the counter. 

“My Dad is Malcolm Merlyn, in case you’re wondering. Feel free to make the wizard in Camelot joke now, it will be your one pass.”

Tommy’s grin is a little half-hearted. There are definitely extra marshmallows in Will’s hot chocolate. 

“I won’t even take the freebie if you stop giving my son sugar highs.” Oliver tries to bargain. Tommy just throws his head back and laughs. 

Oliver leaves a note on a napkin at their table when they leave, and waits just out of sight to make sure Tommy reads it. Tommy’s got s soft and pleased smile on his face when he pockets the note, and Oliver turns away with what must be a similar expression. 

“Why were we waiting?” asks Will. “What did the note you left for Mister Wizard say?” 

“That’s not important yet, Will.” says Oliver. “I’ll tell you if it becomes pertinent to the situation.”

“Does pertinent mean important?” Will asks. 

“More like relevant.” says Oliver, and Will nods, turning the word over in his mouth a few times. 

Tommy texts him later that night, and because it’s pertinent now, Oliver tells Will. 

“Really?” says Will, screwing up his nose a little. “That doesn’t mean we have to stop going to Camelot, does it?”

“Not even a little.” says Oliver. “We’ll probably go more.” 

“Oh! Well, that’s good then.” says Will, and that’s that. Honestly, Oliver was expecting to have to do a whole conversation about boys liking boys and that being okay, but he’s not going to complain that he doesn’t have to. 

***

Their first date goes well, as does their second. Both times, Oliver leaves Will with Moira and doesn’t correct her when she tells him to have a nice time with his new girlfriend. It’s after their fourth date, when Oliver’s got Tommy sprawled half on top of him, fingers lazily tracing the lines of the Bratva tattoo on his chest, that he thinks he should tell his mom. 

“Want to come to dinner next week?” 

“Sure. Where do you want to go?”

“No, I mean, come to my place to have dinner.”

Tommy pushes himself upright, so he can get a good look at Oliver. 

“You know you don’t have to do that yet if you don’t want to. It’s okay, I know you never told your mom.”

“I want to.” says Oliver. “Will knows. I want Mom and Thea to know.” 

Tommy smiles, bright and beautiful. Oliver hopes he gets to keep this. He asks Raisa for her help, and between them they bake the biggest cake they have a time for, and Will stands on a step stool to help ice it in bright colors. Moira almost swallows her tongue when she’s confronted with the “surprise I’m queer” message, and Thea falls from her chair laughing. Walter’s got a tiny little smile on his face, like this is exactly what he expected and he’s enjoying it. 

“His name is Tommy, by the way, and I invited him for dinner on Friday.” 

Thea, of course, loves Tommy. Moira recognizes him as Malcolm’s son, and her face pinches up tight. 

“Don’t worry.” says Tommy. “I feel that way about Dad too. It’s most of the reason I’m still sleeping on Laurel’s couch.” 

By Laurel, Tommy means ADA Laurel Lance. Oliver dated her once, for about four weeks, right up until Laurel called him over and he found her halfway through a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and she told him she was a lesbian. 

“Have you told her yet, by the way?” asks Oliver, tucking Tommy close against his side. 

“Of course I have. She wants a ‘surprise I’m queer’ cupcake, by the way. She feels left out.” 

Oliver beams. 

***

Five months later, he and Will are back at Camelot, even if Oliver’s walking a bit funny thanks to a piece of rebar slammed against his knee. 

“Hey, baby.” says Tommy, when they walk through the door. “Rough night?” 

Will scampers off to their spot, which now has a third chair pulled up to it. 

“Rebar’s the worst.” says Oliver, and leans over the counter to kiss him. Tommy shrugs a little. 

“I wouldn’t know.”

Tommy presses another kiss to his lips. 

“Take a seat, hero. I’ll bring you your coffee.”

As per usual, Will’s hot chocolate is overflowing with marshmallows.


End file.
